Just Like Heaven
by Poseidon's Chickadee
Summary: Hiatus, up for revision when I get back
1. Prologue

Narrarator: ahem looks at the muggle mika-tone with slight apprehension before clearing her throat again Erm, He-LO ... Oh good this thing is on.

Good evening witches and wizards, I would like to paint for you a picture.

Think, think hard with your imaginations and envision this ... You, and the front. Yes you with the honking nose. Fix your cape, it's billowing on everyone else's personal space thinks that the greasy man looks like an over grown bat Yes, that's good ... Thank you.

You know when you wake up and everything goes wrong? Not just oops, forgot to put on my favorite ascot; I am talking about 'leaving the coffee pot running, missing the train (or the Knight Bus) only to realize by the time you catch the next one you left your folder in the public loo of the station and you can't remember what you wrote on it' kind of wrong. You wake up on the virtual and literal wrong side of the bed and nothing seems to go right for the next couple of hours? The next day? The next week even? Now imagine yourself a young, lovely witch (if you're a wizard just imagine yourself a brain ... Oh I'm just KIDDING! gives the fellow witches a yeah right look) that has had Mary-Sueish success. Top in her House, was a member of all the clubs in Hogwarts (sans Quidditch) and now is making it large in the muggle world (What do you mean you wouldn't try the mudblood life if your own depended on it, Draco Lucius Orion Malfoy? Need I remind you who fought WITH Potter to stop THE number one muggle killer? And again, should I refresh your memory on who has a fascination for the Wiggles? Yes that is what I thought looks smug when a certain blonde git shuts his whiney mouth). Imagine yourself always on time, always organized, and always poised. Imagine yourself one anal-retentive lass who has the next twenty years of her life mapped out on post-its and magical planners (Yeah ... I know what kind of loser does- err, Sorry. 'Mione, Padma. I wasn't calling the two of YOU losers ... he he he ...coughs) Now imagine if everything in your life went wrong for an entire year all just because your alarm woke you up thirty minutes late (Can you just imagine? What do you mean no? This isn't rocket science Crabbe ... Even Ron can do it! Err, Sorry Weasley, meant nothing by it ... I think you're sexy! What, Crabbe? No. What do Dark Marks have to do with anything. That was so HBP get with the program and IMAGINE. Goodness, did you miss the purple dinosaur development in your years? Or was it a purple hippogriff ...).

Now for the rest of you who aren't Malfoy, Granger, Patil, Weasley (No, Ron just because Hermione's name is next to Draco's doesn't mean that any Malnger nookie is going to happen ... Yes, I am sure. No. Fine? Would you rather it be Ginny's name next to his? I didn't think so mutters about overprotective, overreacting, overgrown redheads), or Crabbe (A dinosaur is a big lizard thing, imagine .. Oh forget it! throws hands up in defeat Just read the bloody story!)

storms off muttering ... last time I listen to Bumblebore

pops back in

WARNING: For the soft of temperaments, do screen your eyes and ears.


	2. Chapter 1

Note: I hope you like the prelude! I belatedly realized that FFN doesn't do asteriks because well ... who knows why. So, the narrator's (ME! lol) Mutterings are actually supposed to be seperate. I'm sorry if it reads weird, but y'all are smart. You'll figure it out :-D

Disclamer: I own nothing. Nothing at all except for all character's that seem original. Heck Draco's second middle name isn't mine, if you look in the Black Family History tree you'll see it was the name of Sirius' father (or says the darling Wikipedia ;-) ). Everything here belongs to JK and it is just the insanity of my mind spouting images and words.

The title doesn't belong to me either; neither does the song in this chapter. The title is actually a great song by the Cure and the song in chapter one is (a good but not as great song if you ask me, unless you mean the chorus :-D) is the song 'Hair of the Dog' by Nazareth.

* * *

CHAPTER ONE: January 2nd, 2007 

BUZZ!!!!!!! BUZZ!!!!!! BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!!!!!!!

BUUUUUZZZZ-KARBOOM!

With a sigh and sleepy little smile Eliza rolled herself onto the other side of her bed and buried her head under her down feather pillow. The wonder of magic and a good aim.

Buh-bye infernal alarm clock.

_"Yes, House I know you would have never been able to have solved that horribly complicated problem without me. It's not your fault that you didn't realize it was a brain tumor."_

_"Oh, Eliza! What would I do without you? You are such a marvelous friend!" Enthused Gregory House, with an odd amount of sincerity and awe in his usual sarcastic tone._

_"Oh, you exaggerate my friend. Now, please stop groveling I must go, the love of my life is waiting for me." Eliza smiled warmly, a little pompously, and a lot irritate. She did love helping her friend House and all. However, she just could not wait to spend some time in front of an open fire with the man of her dreams. _

_In fact she spotted a flash of orange._

_Oh, how her beloved made her heart thump with delirious joy. They would go back to their cottage and sip tea and wax poetics of their love. Oh how she adored him. The best of all the male Weasleys her dearest - ..._

---

"WAKE UP YOU HORRENDOUS, GIGANTIC COW!!!!!

WAKE UP! Time for shopping! GET UP AND START THAT SOCIAL LIFE. I SAID --- ... You better not think of blasting me as you did that muggle contraption. GET UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

With a groan and a muttered curse that related her magical alarm clock to the canine familiar, Elizabeth swung her feet over the side of her bed, her eyes still bleary with sleep. Despite always being up and walking by the time of dawn, she was NOT a morning person; she just had caffeine and waking spells to thank for that.

Elizabeth paused when her feet reached the cold floor. Something was horribly wrong. Rubbing at her eyes, she crawled over onto the other side of her bed and realized that she had woken up on the left side of her bed. She always woke up on the right side. To make matters worst because she had awakened on the wrong side, she had placed her barefooted feet on the cold floor!

"Oh nooo." The tired groan becoming stretched out by a yawn. "There goes my day."

You the reader must be wondering what in the bejeezness was she muttering about? Well, our lovely Eliza is nothing but paranoid (really she was nothing BUT paranoid, shrewd, and a huge brain. Can you guess what house she was in?) and knew every superstition by heart, taking haste to guide against them.

She strongly believed that her luck would go down the drain for the rest of the day AND she would have a cold, mixed with cramps. After all anyone with a brain knew what waking on the wrong side of the bed meant and what putting bare-feet on the cold wood floor meant.

This all was an absolute guarantee that what would have been a usually efficient day filled with work and work and some more work ... and of course a tad bit more of that thing called work, all that would now end -somehow she was positively sure-with the ruination to do the thing she loved the most. Work.

"Great, just great." She continued to mutter to herself as she walked into the small dark-bluish bathroom of her apartment.

Turning on the hot water in the shower first, because it took a few minutes for it to heat up, Eliza simultaneously grabbed her favorite lavender scented soap and placed it on the ledge inside of the small shower. She also made sure that her shampoo and conditioner were all ready inside to save potential time wasting by going to look for them. Wasting time made one a wasteful person. Time could always be used to do something efficient and wasting it was up there with kicking puppies and forgetting to label things in the fridge. All things that were considered to be absolutely dreadful to Eliza. And Pattersons were NOT dreadful people. Dreary but never, ever dreadful.

Turning towards the sink, Eliza grabbed her toothbrush and a tube from nearby; unscrewing the top of said tube, something niggled at her to check the label … It was her face cream.

With a small sigh, she quickly put it down and crabbed the right container, the Colgate. Smile care you can trust, you know. And in her line of work a good smile was necessary. Talking about smiles, Liza gave herself a small one. She had just stopped herself from putting what would more than likely be horrid tasting face cream into her mouth. That meant something.

That maybe this day of bad luck wouldn't happen … maybe no cramps. Maybe …

Maybe nothing. Nothing bad would happen to her. She was a determined, independent witch. No one dictated her life, never mind some unseen force. Luck was created by oneself; she knew that. She had learned that the hard way. Eliza's smile widened despite the fact her mind had almost taken a trip to Hurtful Memories Land.

Nothing bad was going to happen. It was going to be the same fulfilling day as usual!

Brushing her teeth with more exuberance than she usually did (Our heroine gets a kick and satisfaction of doing things the muggle way), she spit, rinsed and repeated. Quickly washing her face, she twisted her raven hair up into a messy knot on top of her head, carefully and meticulously removed her clothing (which was pointless since she just dropped them to the floor anyway) and stepped into the shower.

However, Luck, being the mind reader that it was didn't like the idea of the too-smart-for-her-own-good-witch thinking that she could control something as old as time and as whimsical as the rainbow, decided to take a little do-see-do away from the woman. In shorter terms, Luck immediately escaped her.

As soon as she stepped into the shower the shock of the cold but usually by this time warm water had her jumping back and stepping on her soap. The soap she quite surely put upon its ledge.

And we all know what happens when you step on soap in a wet area.

"FUUUC-OWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!"

Ex … actly.

* * *

S. Emma Taggart buried her face in her hands. It was her hope that if she sunk low enough in her chair people would not notice her sitting with the maniac that was across the table from her. 

"Heart breaker, soul shaker ….I've been told about you … Steamroller, midnight stroller .." Siobhan-Margarette Cyan Euphrosyne Taggart did not at all notice her step-sister's discomfort, it could have been because she was so used to the older woman being embarrassed by her it was like the wind shifting course. A natural occurance and not something she bothered herself with unless she needed to bother herself with it.

And currenlty the twenty-two year old was not to be bothered by anyone as she drummed out 'Hair of the Dog' on outdoor table of the Promenade.

For the thousandth time since she was fifteen, Emma wondered what her father had been thinking when he married Aquamarine Myrrh Thorn.

Of all the women out there. It wasn't as if he lacked for options, he was muggle-born after all.

He could have any witch or muggle woman that he had wanted. ANY. He was wealthy enough; surely no Malfoy but he was better off than the Notts and the Bones. He was more handsome than Lucius and no doubt more charming. Her father could have had any woman, and in fact had had swarms of women trying to apparate into their Manor the moment they had buried her mum. But noooo he had to lose his senses suddenly and choose Abesentminded Thorn and her unconventionally strange child.

"Siobhan, stop." What might have been a threathening whisper was muffled for the fact that the older woman was still covering her face in horror.

"Now you're messin' with a son of a biiiiitch!!!!! Now you're messin' with a son of a bitch." The banging on the table came out empathically, dark curls swirling around a heart shaped face as the singer, Sio, bobbed her head with the music in her mind.

Emma shifted under the stares that she just KNEW were being thrown in their direction. "Siobhan!" She tried again, the words coming out in a slight growl.

"Red hot mama …Velvet charmer …Time's come to pay your duuuues … Now you're messin with a son of a-"

"SIOBHAN TAGGART! Cease and desist!!!!" Emma exploded. Was her step-sister daft? Wait no, no point in asking a question when one already knew the answer. Slipping her hands from her face, Emma sat up like a proper lady witch and gave her younger step-sister a proper lady witch glare. There was only so much embarrassment a person could take ... especially in public.

Siobhan Taggart-better known as Cyan to those who were her friends and Yannie by her parents-turned wide blue-green eyes to the direction of flashing dark ones. "Bitch?" She asked unsurely with her right hand about to slam the table.

"Hmmm." Emma growled out rather menacingly for a waif of a woman that was still horribly embarrassed.

Cyan took it upon herself that moment to look around at the other tables. Many of the customers had quit pretending they were eating a long time ago and were either looking at the women in annoyance or a high dosage of amusement. "Wow … everyone is staring."

"Are they now?!" Emma exclaimed in mock shock, irritation dripping from each syllable.

Cyan quickly nodded her head.

"Yeah, they are." Reaching over she grabbed her glass of water, causing some of the liquid to slosh over, and took a sip. "Jeez Louise, Emmy-cakes, if you wanted my attention all you had to do was say may name or give me a tap. No need to screech. Now I doubt we'll get any service." The brunette watched as the blonde woman sitting across from her slowly narrowed her eyes giving her face a demonic quality if Cyan did say so herself. Said demonic face was currently was slowly turning pale than red and then a slight hue of purple in Emma's indignation. "No … No … No n-n-eeeeed? To .. No? Need? No NEED?!"

"What's with you Emzer?" Cyan tried not to tilt her head and watch in rapt fascination as rainbows etched themselves across her step-sister's face. White, pink, purple, blue … wait was she choking? No, there she was with the red … okay, not choking.

It never ceased to tickle her funny how she could so easily get a rise out of her "stiff Brit" of an older sister. Yes, she should feel bad. Feel shamed to be so immature, to find such enjoyment at poking the other woman with the proverbial spoon. And she would have. Would have if her name hadn't been Siobhan-Margarette Cyan Euphrosyne Thorn-Taggart. But she was QUITE sure on her birth certificate those were five of those six names on it. So there was no bad feelings. Just childish glee.

"No … n-n-eeee-grrrrrrrr!!!!!"

Cyan leaned forward slightly and narrowed her eyes before sitting back with a sigh. She had not made the other woman drool in her anger. It would've been funny if she had so she could point it out and watch the rainbow go by again. "Wow, that's a whole lot of anger in that skinny-assed body of yours, sis. You really should take my advice and try that incense therapy. It works wonders." So would some sex, she mentally added.

Slowly, but surely, Emma regained her composure.

Sitting up straighter, she patted her slicked back blonde hair and ignored much of the room that was still looking at their three-chaired table with captivated interest. "I am sure it does. However, I would rather not have my flat smelling like garbage and grass." Came the frigid smile.

"No you would rather it smell like a chain smoker lived in it … Ohhh waaait." Oh, low blow. Point for Cyan. Garbage and grass her long named hiney! None of the incense she made smelled any such way and Em-zer would know that if she descended off of her high horse. It never ceased to grind on Cyan's nerves that her sister thought that wand magic was the only and best way to go; never considering to try nature's remedies and almost having a disparaging comments for techniques that Cyan and her mother lived by. "And another thing, this is America we call them apartments here. Say it with me now. Aaaahhh-paaaaaart-me-" Cyan abruptly stopped when she saw the slight problem behind her.

Well not so much saw but felt. Cyan was always aware of what was around her, even things that she could not see with her two human eyes. It was a Gift her mother liked to say.

To Cyan many times it was a nuisance, mainly because it was one of the extremely rare things she adreed with Emma on … her "Gift's" nuisanceness.

Turning around on her seat, and kneeling on it much as a five year old would, she craned her neck to see what was going on.

"Sit DOWN!" Emma hissed, in exasperation with a slight wariness to her tone.

Why had she agreed to this? Why had she agreed to spend the day with her sister and her sister's "bestest-westest" friend? The twenty-eight year old –though some days it felt older (days she had to deal with her younger step-sister)-let out a sigh. She had done it because her father had asked it of her. And she could never say no to her father, it just wasn't in her to do so. She really did adore the man.

Emma was currently in the country for business and he had thought it a "capital idea" for her to spend the day playing catch up with Cyan.

She adored him SO much she would deal with this … this seven year-old in a woman's body the entire day.

Even if it killed her.

"OHHHHHH!!!!! Here! HERE we ARE! Come!"

Slowly.

Cyan was gesturing madly to a tall Asian woman to come and join them.

The woman was another reason Emma had agreed, albeit reluctantly, to this idiotic day of bonding, pampering, and shopping. Cyan's best friend was as sane as her sister was OUT-of-sane. She was driven where as Siobhan was lackadaisical. Of course the other woman could be as loud and boisterous as Cyan but she knew when as where her Emma's step-sister did not know or just would rather not care. And the other woman could carry a bloody conversation that didn't involve griping over the wonders of meditation and incense. Not to mention that the Asian woman was also a Brit.

Cyan noticed two things were off about her best friends almost immediately.

First of all the taller woman was limping, second of all she was carrying a briefcase.

"You forgot that today was our day to shop didn't you? That's why you're so late. You went to work." Although the tone sounded accusing, the petite brown-haired woman was grinning ear to ear.

Some things could never, ever change. That's why she had set up this day of rest.

"Good morning to you too Cyan." Dark eyes narrowed slightly in her direction as the owner of said eyes sat down a bit gingerly.

Moving from her kneeling position on the chair, Cyan sat down still grinning. "Is that ALL you know how to do? Work, work, work, work some more, maybe work a tad bit more after that, work somemore again, eat, oh and then work?"

"Cyan!" Emma snapped slightly, her tone heaving with admonishment, "Leave her alone. There is nothing wrong with having dedication and a good, strong-"

"Work ethic. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know about all that stuff."

Emma let out a none too delicate snort of disbelief.

Cyan's smiling face fell and her head snapped in the direction of her older sister. There she went again insinuating at what she did wasn't good enough. The fact that she had gotten a GED instead of going to some fancy magic school and working for some ridiculous Ministry meant that she didn't know what real work was. Emma could very much be a stuck-up prick and Cyan was going to relish how much. "Why you-"

Emma smirked and turned her attention towards the young woman sitting next to her in the third chair. Efficiently cutting off whatever Cyan had been about to say she asked, "How has life been treating you Eliza? Quite well I do hope."

Eliza Patterson could not help but smile gratefully at the very familiar scene. It was what she needed in a day gone wrong. Falling in tubs, taking a quick shower in needle ice cold water, getting her skirt caught in the door, having everyone see her smiley knickers when she had stepped out of the public loo, going all the way across Manhattan only to find out that she had already called in sick for work, having to explain to a boss just why she wasn't sick, going back half way home only to remember that she had a whole day planned with Cyan and Emma, having to wait for the next train. And have you any damn idea how feckin bloody hard it is to get just ONE cab in all of New York City?!

To say she was exhausted would have been an extreme understatement but she was happy to be here. Even despite the fact that the maitre d' hadn't wanted to let her go through the restaurant and to the Promenade because she was a tad worse for wear. As if it were her fault she had to sit in a cab where someone had left their near finished lollipop on the seat. As if it where her fault that she fell in the tub and she still hurt all over.

Now to answer the question.

If she were to answer honestly she would have told Emma that today, at least, life had been a bigger temperamental git than Snape … on a good day. However, she doubted the other woman wanted to here her whine about her horrible, terrible, no-good, very bad day. She would save the whining for when she was alone with Cyan.

Speaking of Cyan, Eliza's smile could not help but the fact that her grin widened at the look on the smaller woman's face. She looked like she wanted to take her chair and hit her sister over the head, just because she had cut her off and had insulted her way of life. She wasn't saying that Emma should have done so but that Cyan should have gotten used to it by now. It was fair after all, Emma was giving back as good as she was getting. Never tell Cyan that though. Not at all. Insulting her way of life and cutting her off were things punishable by death or extremely long lectures on the benefits of herbs and crystals.

Placing a calm but firm hand on her best mate's forearm, Eliza spoke. "It has been simply wonderful. I enjoy working with the children and my co-workers are delightful."

Emma nodded and gave a pleasant enough smile. "That is nice to hear, dear. You know though after Hogwarts I always thought you would have done something more … more … more like a private Medi-witch. We all had expected it, you had so much potential"

Eliza rose her dark brows slightly in amusement, and tightened her hold on Cyan when she felt her friend bristle. The only thing worse than trying to put jabs in Cyan's own way of life was trying to put jabs in the way of life of the people she cared about. And that was why she loved the other girl. Her loyalty, dedication, and passion about those she cared about. Cyan would have made a fantastic Hufflepuff if she had went to Hogwarts.

"After Hogwarts many people always thought I would have stayed in England." Eliza said amicably. "But look how THAT turned out."

"Yes … look indeed. I suppose that America has plenty of jobs for a witch of your talent. Though you're not do-"

"WAITER!!"

Cyan harshly interrupted the conversation gesturing for a waiter to come with her free hand and simultaneously glaring holes into her sister.

Same conversation whenever Eliza was around. Why had she left England? Why was she wasting good magical talent in being a child psychiatrist and living as a "muggle". Such POTENTIAL. Well damn it all, Cyan always thought and would always think, it was none of their damn business. Couldn't they see it must have been something big to have made someone like Elizabeth Patterson run? Couldn't they see she was happy now?

Wasn't that what mattered? Of course not nosy-bodied stick carrying people.

Eliza was always so calm and patient when she answered their questions, but Cyan could see it irritated her friend and sent her mind to what she not so jokingly referred to as Hurtful Memories Land. She would always answer prying questions as best as she could, but her answers and subtle requests for privacy went unheeded. Hell, even her straight out demand for it was ignored.

So Cyan did deterrence and distraction. She had got her step-father to manage to get his wizard friends to stop with the 20 questions, and God and Goddess bless him he did. She adored that man. Emma, however, and her witchy-bitchy friend were a completely different story.

One of Emkenstein's friends had even come up to her and straight out asked her, "why is someone as bright as Patterson 'slumming it' with the spawn of mudblood's?" To this day Cyan had yet to find out what a mudblood was because neither Eliza or her dad would tell her and they wouldn't allow Emma or her friends to do so either; however, Cyan was smart enough to know that it was a real bad slur word for something. More than likely people who weren't magical like they were.

So Cyan had punched the mean moron and told her to shove off.

Truth was Cyan didn't know why Eliza had left it all. Sure she wondered but she had straight out told her friend, and anyone else who wondered why, that it wasn't any of her business. She didn't care. It could have been because she used to be a double agent for that war they had some years back or because she stole her friend's brother or man or father, even! Cyan just didn't care. That was then and this was now. Eliza was who she was: reliable, funny, trusth-worthy, and maybe a bit nuts because she didn't understand that nine-to-five should be used as boundaries not something to surpass!

Feeling fingers squeeze through her shirt, Cyan let her anger melt away.

And Eliza was the calm to her storm. It didn't matter to her at all about her friend's past.

Sliding her arm down the table so her finger's could intertwine with Eliza's Cyan turned and flashed her bestest-westet friend a curious look, smile wide on her lips. "Didn't you set that magicky alarm clock to remind you today was shopping?"

* * *

So did you like it? Huh?

Huhhhh?! Review please. See that button. See it? Well you have this thing called a mouse ... No not Stuart Little. A computer mouse, use that mouse and scroll that's it ... good little reviewers. If you leave me plenty of nice and/or constructive reviews I will shall give you more tidbits on my characters and who they will end up with.

I am sorry to those who adore Harry and Draco (I adore Draco with the muchums and I adore them together!!!!) but they are not going to be centered if they are mentioned at all ... But don't worry I have plans of plenty ficcies for them:-D

So review anyways!!!!


	3. 2a: Best Friends are Trolls

Disclaimer's: All and Any HP character's do not belong to be and neither does the Journey song (Cause I am no where near the genious of Journey :-D) which lyrics are in bold and italics. However, Cyan, Emma, Eliza ... and Fabiola are mine. Though if you listen to Eliza she should be locked up lol

Hope you enjoy and be sure to review!!!!!!

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"Oh my goodness, who knew that mud could be so vicious?" 

Eliza groaned under the pressure of feeling every inch of skin on her back, shoulders, thighs, and … private region (the thought making the young woman turn red) throb as though she'd been under a thousand tap dancers. Beginners.

Whoever had said that spa days were supposed to be relaxing was going to receive a very well written, very angry letter from a very irate and in pain former magic user. It was just not on to end the day in the emergency room. Not relaxing and soothing to say the least. Yes, a very angry letter. With exclamation marks! Not too much of course or that would seem just childish and not at all professional. It was too bad the muggles didn't know about howlers … Now just to find out who had invented making spas a franchise.

"The five year olds that use it for weapons."

Cyan said as she handed her a large stirring spoon.

"Here."

"This is not funny," sitting against a bunch of fluffy pillows, Eliza managed to scowl at her friend as she grabbed the spoon, only to end up wincing slightly.

"Funny? I never said I thought today was funny."

The expression of Cyan's face was one of sympathetic solemness.

However, at the hard and dubious glare her injured best friend was giving her said kind look slipped into one of immense amusement. "I said I thought it was down right hilarious."

"Shut up." Eliza's scowl deepened as she sunk the spoon into the creamy goodness of Breyer's Cookies and Cream aka The Comfort Manna of the Gods.

She would also have to write an angry letter to the person who came up with the idea that best mates should take their other unsuspecting, naïve and trusting best mates to have something horrible and waxy named after a rather delightful country in South America (she would write a letter on false advertising, too) all done by a woman named Fabiola who was supposed to be an expert but was really a spawn of the Devil. Such a person deserved five angry letters and a kick in the head. Well, maybe the kick in the head was a bit much. It wasn't as if the person knew that she'd already been having a bad day and that Cyan, who was currently looking like she wanted giggle and right out and out laugh at her, was really a troll disguised as a friend. Still the idea, while no longer making sense to her, brought her some mild comfort. Sure, she was still realizing that had muscles in her legs that she never existed. However, that was the key word. Mild.

"In fact, I remember clearly saying that it looked like you pulled those moves right out of the Three Stooges; especially when you jumped off the mat simultaneously giving Fabby a kick that would have made Pele proud and spraining your back." Came the loud snigger.

"I said shut up."

If only dark eyes were super powered lasers, then the glares Eliza was giving her now FORMER best bud would have melted the shorter woman. "What kind of friend laughs at her friend's pain?"

Said shorter woman cocked a sardonic brow.

"The friend that got taken down into the mud bath because her pal saw it fit to trip over thin air?"

All scowling melted into a sheepish expression.

"I apologized about that."

"No problem,"

She responded with a shrug, grabbing the ice cream and spoon from Eliza's hands despite protests of being injured. "You're lucky I don't mind the down and dirty look or else you would have been in mucho trouble. Though I don't think Emma will forgive you for ruining her Gucci." Cyan smiled suddenly. "Good job with that."

Giving up on getting back the ice cream that was supposed to be HER comfort, Eliza grabbed one of the many pillows that she was leaning back on and buried her face into it.

"Now, now. Don't worry about it. It's not like Emkenstein doesn't have fifty thousand more of those same shoes back at her place."

"Don't call her that."

Eliza muttered out the typical command without much thinking.

Just like her best friend's stepfather, Eliza was always trying to get Emma and Cyan to get along. Knowing Emma from back in Hogwarts, Eliza had never had any bad thoughts of the older female. In fact, Emma was one of the rare student's who had seen it fit NOT to play stuff 'Pathetic Patterson' in the broomcloset. Emma had always had a kind word for her and in fact had let her borrow some of her advanced books because let's face it, one had to actually earn a nickname such as 'Pathetic Patterson'. They didn't just hand them out for free, you know. Sure Emma was a reserved and at times snobby Brit, but deep down Eliza liked to believe that the two of them were cut from the same cloth. Bookies. And if Cyan could adore her then she could surely tolerate her step-sister. It made sense. Then again, maybe BECAUSE it made sense Cyan refused to see the reasoning. Her best mate was nothing but stubborn, hardheaded, and many times ridiculously close-minded. This was funny because Cyan had to be one of the most free-loving, sympathetic, understanding people she knew. However, when it came to certain things it was black and white; Emma being very much in the black. Nevertheless, that didn't stop Eliza from trying. Sure, she had been at it for nearly the past four years. That meant nothing. After all Patterson's were not quitters.

Cyan opened her mouth to argue but staved whatever comment she would have made by placing a spoonful of ice cream in her mouth. Eliza had that look on her face. It was a fine mixture of disappointment, determination, and disbelief that said Eliza couldn't fathom why she was being so 'ridiculously stubborn', as her friend liked to put it.

She had millions of reasons, Cyan did, as to why she was ridiculously stubborn about her stepsister and had no bones about listing them all one by one. However, tonight, she wouldn't. Eliza was in pain, and for some reason she liked Emma, so Cyan would do nothing to upset her pal. This is was one of the 'if you don't have anything nice to say don't say anything at all' situations. Those situations always played badly for Cyan because she wasn't one for tact. Therefore, she ate ice cream.

"She really is a nice girl."

Eliza continued.

Cyan just nodded slowly, taking another spoon of ice cream.

"And she does try to get along with you. Sometimes."  
Eliza amended at Cyan's snort.

"You know you're no help with that."

She accused.

And another spoon of ice cream.

"You really should try."

Really at this rate she was going to gain poundage at her hips, Cyan thought while she tried-unsuccessfully, just for you readers to know-to add a satisfactory enough sorrowful and considering face.

"Cyaaan."

Eliza huffs, that face Cyan dubbed the Disappointed Look of Doom (doom because somewhere in Cyan's future, more time with her sister was being planned by Eliza) coming on stronger.

"Man you, English are naggy."

The DLoD melted into a mock look of pompousness.

"But of course. It's because we are soooo much, you know like, better than you Americans."

Cyan let out a giggle.

"Only you could sound so can sound so snobby and say 'you know like' at the same time."

Eliza grinned.

"I know it's a talent."

"Okay. Whatever. It's called weirdness."

Cyan said with a roll of her eyes but she was grinning also.

"Don't player hate."

Eliza sniffed with snootiest of snooty tones.

"Participate!"

Both girls fell into giggles at that.

Eliza had accepted long ago that it was near impossible for her to stay upset or annoyed with her best friend. There was something about Cyan that wouldn't let her and she knew that the other woman felt the same way about her.

"It's playA," Cyan points out licking the spoon, "not ER."

"Oh, excuse me."

"Forgiven."

Eliza rolled her eyes but her smile was still evident.

With another bite of ice cream,

"I always wondered what they meant by 'participate'.

Participate in what? The playering?"

"Is that even a word?"

"You tell me."

Cyan demands lightly with a shrug.

"You're the genius of us two."

"Now don't say that. You're every bit as smart as I am, you're just lazy."

Cyan flashes Eliza an impish grin.

"Don't I know it. Though I'm surprise you'd admit it."

"What? Not admit it?"

The question was stated with the rise of an imperious brow and a casual sniff.

"Unlike you I'm rational."

Cyan let out her second snort in the past fifteen minutes.

"So says the woman who gets impatient with the cash register because it can't calculate as fast as her amazing Asian brain can?"

"Ha .. ha. Not funny."

"Actually it is. The looks on the cashier's faces never cease to crack me up."

"It's not my fault that they can't calculate simple change and don't know what's on sale in their own store." Eliza protests.

"No," Cyan's impish grin returns knowing she has her friend's number. "it's not their fault that you're controlling, competitive with anything even a machine, and hate to lose."

With narrowed eyes, Eliza yanks the ice cream and spoon from her friend; though she was met with a bit of a struggle. Reaching over to the lamp stand, which sadly turned out to be more painful than she had expected, she grabbed the wipes and cleaned the spoon before taking some ice cream for herself.

Cyan rolled her blue-greens.

"And, oh yeah, a germ-a-phobe.

I don't know how many times I have to tell you I lost my cooties back in the third grade."

"One can never be sure."

"Like it's gonna matter, since technically the spoon that was in my mouth went into that very container."

Eliza stopped her second scoop mid-way into her mouth and wrinkled her nose in distaste.

"You're such a horrendous bitch." She said before dropping the spoon into the container and handing it over to Cyan with a look of disgust.

"Yes I know."

Cyan replied happily.

"This is not fair. I'm the injured one!"

"Yeah you are."

Came the sound of agreement.

"Humph!"

Eliza huffed. To make matters worse she couldn't even cross her bloody arms!

Really, she was going back to her previous thought of Cyan really being a troll moonlighting as a best friend. Poor job, that.

Silence stretched between the two young women as the one with the ice cream made a show of eating it.

"I hate you."

Eliza added after a while, just in case the mean glaring was lost in translation (A/N: I am so witty). One could never tell with Cyan.

Standing as she finished the carton of ice cream, she gave her friend a smirk as she walked to the kitchen and grabbed a spoon and something rather large from the fridge.

"You are evil incarnate, in case you didn't know."

Eliza continued.

"Hmm, I've heard something like that.

Heard I was a devil in the sack too."

The impish grin coming again.

"Whatever … virginy virgin."

"For someone so smart you make little sense when you're miffed.

You need to work on that." Cyan said, delaying her trip back to the couch to turn on her stereo. Whatever CD that happened to be on would play, she didn't bother to check. Music made the mood, however, she wasn't worried that it was Eminem or something because she had been in a eighties' mood and music from the early eighties' was always of the good.

She was proven right when the swaying and moving tones of a Journey song filled the room as she made her way back to the couch.

"Here."

She said, handing the food and the utensil to her still pouting amiga.

Upon seeing Cyan's sort-of peace offering that was meant to mollify the miffed Brit, Eliza's eyes lit up like a baby at it's first Christmas. "Oooo!!!!!"

"Yeah."

Cyan laughed as Eliza grabbed at what was in her hand and started to eat away.

" 'Ooo'"

If one wanted to get Eliza to do what they wanted, simply wave a parfait in front of her.

The girl would be more gone than that dog in the 'Kibbles and Bits' commercial.

'_**A singer in a smoky room,  
The smell of wine and cheap perfume  
For a smile they can share the night'**_

Sounded through the room.

"So, want to finally explain to me what's going on?"

Eliza gave her a mild glare, barely hearing the question through her parfait haze.

"Hmm?"

**_'It goes on and on and on and on... /Strangers waiting, up and down the boulevard/Their shadows searching in …'_**

"Eliz, you're more graceful than a gazelle and a ballerina's … spawn or something. Today was very weird, something's defunct with your aura. Tell me what's goin' on." Cyan ordered as she crossed her arms around one of the few pillows that were not around her injured Eliz.


End file.
